


The First Hunter

by GVMYMLK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-27 12:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30123075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GVMYMLK/pseuds/GVMYMLK
Summary: Rush Jones has a secret. A secret that he knows he should have told Sam and Dean a long time ago. Now that secret has come to bit him in the butt.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

As the town drunk finally stumbled out the door, Rush finally is able to take a deep breath and close the bar for the night. The logging town, Whitewater, doesn't get much traffic outside of a few foul individuals and some hikers, taking advantage of the last stop before hundreds of miles of pure wilderness. But, despite this, the last few weeks brought in more visitors than expected.

"I'm telling you, Mattie. There has to be something going on." Rush urged as he starts wiping the tables down. "We had twice as many customers than normal and our rooms are almost full. This is not normal."

"And this could just be a sign that the season is picking up and people just want to go hiking more." Mattie calmly replied as he tidied up the back of the bar. "Even if there was something going on, what could it be?"

"You know what it could be. That's why I'm so concerned."

"Why don't you just call Jack, Jim.... um... James? Fuck. What's his name?" Mattie states, fading out at the end as he scratched his head, trying to find the answer.

"You mean John?"

"Yes! John! Why don't you call him? He's an investigator or a cop or something, right? John might help."

Rush looks up at Mattie as if he was insane. "Are you serious? You want me to contact him?!"

Mattie nods as he finishes putting the bottles away and moving on and cleaning the bar surface itself. "Of course I am. He knows about this stuff and a fresh set of eyes."

"No. I am not. There's plenty of other options before going to John about this. We don't even know what it is yet." Rush replies, finishing his last table and switching to sweeping.

"Fine. You're right. I just miss that face sometimes..." Mattie sighs, dreamily before getting a peanut to the face. "Hey! I can dream!"

"I'm not paying you to dream, I'm paying you to clean." Rush scolds, tossing Mattie the broom.

"You don't pay me at all, actually." Mattie defends as he fumbles with the toss, making the broom fall onto the ground. 

"I pay you with a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and the fact you owe me your life ten times over again." Rush calls back as he makes his way through the winding tables to the front door. After locking the three deadbolts, he made his way to the register at the bar and starts the finances.

Mattie broke his own humming with a soft yelp as he clasps his hand over his mouth. Rush spun around to look at Mattie to find him pointing out the front window at a pale, humanoid figure. It became eerily silent as neither Mattie nor Rush spoke. The creature searches around the empty street, as the neon bar sign illuminates its bony face and cloudy eyes. After sniffing the air, it lets out a heartwrenching howl and sprints down the road with inhuman speeds.

Rush sighs as he put his shotgun back underneath the bar, still staring out the bar. "Hey, Mattie. Find John Winchester's number."


	2. The Arrival

Jones Bar and Inn, aka Jones Tavern, is a proud, family-owned business run by Rush Jones with a strong tie to hunters. However, as the city lifestyle gets more and more appealing to both humans and monsters, and the invention of the internet in the 1960s, the demand for supernatural researchers has gone down significantly. Due to this, Jones Tavern is now just another run-down bar and housing for struggling lumberjacks. Rush knew this silence was different, like the calm before the storm, not because of lack of customers or hunters. But when two young men entered his bar at two in the afternoon, he knew this was truly the beginning of the end.

Rush set down the glass he was polishing, threw the towel over his shoulder, and grabs his pad of paper. "A little late for lunch, ain't it?" He replies with a chuckle after greeting them, ready to take their orders.

They both gave a forced chuckle as the taller one approached. "Uh... No, we already eat. We're here to ask some questions."

"That's a relief. I just ran out of the lunch special today. Lumberjacks do love their pork and sides." Rush comments as he goes back to his glass and continues to polish.

"I'm Agent Brian LaSmith and my partner, Agent Luke Snider. We would like to ask you about a man that came by here a few weeks back. We were hoping you might know where he might be heading." The taller man casually replies and pulls out his badge before he extends his hand, giving a warm smile.

Rush pauses his cleaning to quickly shake Agent LaSmith's hand. "Nice to meet you, Agent. I would love to help. What does he look like? We've been getting a hand full of new faces in town."

"He's about our height, dark brown hair, beard, in his forties," Snider responds as LaSmith pulls out a picture to show.

Rush stares at the photo as he puts down the glass and rag. "This is the man you're looking for?" Rush clarifies.

"Yes, it is. You know something?" Snider asks, visibly getting excited.

Rush glances between the two before nodding. "Ya. Saw him pass through. Just thought he was just a drifter. We get one or two of them on occasion. Stop by to lay low before going on to the next deadbeat town. He's probably halfway across the country at this rate." He rambles as he finishes his last glass.

"He's not a criminal. He's just... an important key to a case and we need to track him down. Do you have any other information about him?" LaSmith urges.

"No. He just booked a room for four days, had some food, and drank almost all my top-shelf whiskey. Now, I don't mind someone drinking top-shelf whisky, especially when they pay over double for it, but I do start getting concerned when you go through about a bottle a day. When you see him next, tell him he needs to slow down on the alcohol. He's drinking himself an early grave if he hasn't died yet." Rush replies, mumbling the last part under his breath, as he writes which bottles of alcohol he needs to restock.

The two agents glance at each other before Snider clears his throat. "Just one more question. Where is the closest motel?"

"The only one motel in a hundred-mile radius is this place. I'm guessing you two would like a room." Rush forces a courteous smile as he glances up at them. Snider gives a very irritated groin and LaSmith takes a moment, glaring at Snider.

"Yes, we would like a room, with two beds if you can," LaSmith responds, holding out a credit card. "You take Visa, right"

Rush nods as he pays them out, noticing the cardholder's name was "Tyler Swift". He hands it back with the receipt and two separate room keys. "Your room is 305. Just head up the stairs in the back."

Rush finally relaxed as the Agents disappeared upstairs with their bags. "Mattie! Private office! Now!" He calls out as he grabs his keys and heads towards the basement door.


	3. Are U With Me?

“What’s going on? You never call meetings to be here.” Mattie frustratingly calls after spraining his ankle rushing down the old wooden stairs. He limps to the door, which is in the back corner of the basement, as quickly as he could and knocks.

“Come in!” Rush snaps angrily.

“Rush?” He slowly opens the door and gasps, taking in the room. The private office is a large room with a variety of lab equipment and witchcraft tools spread across a large table in the center of the room. There are bookshelves lining three of the walls, the shelves overflowing with a variety of books, labeled jars, and miscellaneous supplies. The fourth wall has racks for all sorts of weapons, including guns, swords, maces, etc. Everything a hunter could want and ask for, and then some.

Rush frantically flipped through a weather-worn journal, not finding what he wanted, then took another off the shelf closest to him. “Finally, you’re here. We have a major problem going on.”

“I’m happy to help, but first, what is this room? How come I never saw it?” Mattie asks, still starstruck but cautious.

Rush pauses what he’s doing takes a deep breath and looks up at Mattie. “Mattie. Do you know John? The hunter I told you so much about. He isn’t a bounty hunter. He hunts the supernatural, you know, the creepy crawly. This room's the best stock and safest room you can be in when it comes to hunting monsters.”

Mattie practically gave him a look of pure confusion and concern. “Listen. I enjoyed hearing scary stories, as much as the next guy, but that is insane.” He hastily got out, giving an awkward chuckle at the end.

“It’s real and you know it. That night we saw that weird figure? That was a wendigo, a creature that used to be human but now a cannibal monster hybrid.”

“A wendigo… of course,” Mattie restates to himself, shaking his head as if not knowing whether to believe Rush or not.

“I’m telling you the truth. What do you think is happening to all those hikers and lumberjacks going missing in the woods?” Rush questions.

“I don’t know Rush! Animal attacks?”

“There would have been remains of the body and the hiker’s supplies weren’t around at the scene. Animals don’t pick up and carry backpacks around to save for later.” Rush explains. “It was a wendigo.”

“Fine. Let's just say for the sake of the argument, it was a wendigo. What does that have to do with John? How did he go missing if we saw him leave town, safe and sound.”

“John found where the wendigo was hiding and managed to burn its nest. Unfortunately, it escaped, fled west, and John went after it. Apparently, he was gone for too long and someone got worried. The two “federal agents” that just checked into a room asked for John. Not by name but they had a photo of him.” Rush easily replies, going back to flipping his journal.

Mattie stood there for a moment. “Man you get straight to the point.” He murmurs.  
“If you want to join me in trying to find John, then stay. If not, go. I need to concentrate.”

“Just give me a moment to process.” Mattie turns his back to Rush, pinching his nose.

Rush glances at Mattie for a moment before returning to the journal, skimming a particular section over a few times. “Take your time.” He says simply, not pressing further as he starts gathering a few jars.

“There are monsters and hunters hunt them,” Mattie repeats to himself a few times to make himself believe it and turns back to Rush. “So, John got lost trying to find a wendigo?”

“Yes. Done processing the situation?” Rush crushes some herbs in a mortar and pestle.

“I’m getting there. How are we going to find John? We don’t even know which state he chased the wendigo to.” Mattie slowly steps up to the tables.

“That’s where this comes in.” Rush pours the ground herbs into a vile with a small gemstone and water as he chants in a foreign language. “It’s a tracking spell of my own design. We just need a hair of his or of a family member and we’ll track him down.”

Mattie nods, understanding most of it. “Okay, two questions. How are we getting the hair, and what do we do once we track him down?”

Ruah plugs the vile up with a quark. “Once we track him down, we help him as much as we can. But the hair, I have no idea.”


End file.
